


Secrets

by angelcatsiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cunnilingus, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Reader-Insert, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2018-02-27 01:06:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2673140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelcatsiel/pseuds/angelcatsiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Request on tumblr. Reader gets into a relationship with Sam, but is self conscious and scared to sleep with him because of her scars. (Please read author's notes!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request, and I am NOT romanticizing the topics in any way. I hope it comes across the way I intended; self harm isn't beautiful or romantic, it's a horrible thing, but scars don't define you. This fanfic was a comfort for me to write, and hopefully it can be a comfort for people to read, too. If you think you might be triggered, don't read.

“Ok, Y/N, I have something to tell you.”

You glanced up at Sam, concerned at his tone of voice. “Sure. What’s up, Sam?”

He took a deep breath. “Um, so, we’re both hunters and that makes this difficult, I know… and it’s ok if you say no… but I like you. I mean, I really, really like you.”

You sat up straight, putting down the lore book you had been reading. “You do?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “But I know a lot of hunters don’t like relationships. They’re difficult, and stressful sometimes, and like I said, you can say no… I just had to tell you.”

You grinned. “Sam, I would love to be in a relationship with you.”

His eyes widened. “R-really?” he asked.

You nodded, standing up and throwing yourself into his arms. “Of course I would! Us hunters need to take happiness when we can get it, right?”

He smiled, leaning down to kiss you softly. “I guess we do.”

But you had been so caught up in your excitement and happiness, you had forgotten for a moment about something. Something that could eventually cause a problem. At first, it was nothing to worry about. You and Sam took things slow, not really going any further than sharing gentle kisses and cuddles on the couch when you weren’t on a hunt. But it was when you started to get closer to being intimate that you really began to worry.

Sam seemed to sense that you were nervous, although he probably didn’t know the reason why. He was careful, and you didn’t go much further than making out and sharing heated kisses, touching and grinding against each other until Dean walked in on the two of you and told you to ‘get a room’, at which point you would stop and simply cuddle together.

Today, though, Sam was off on a hunt. It was a simple salt and burn, a one man job, so you had stayed behind and were currently studying yourself in the full-length mirror, standing there in your underwear. You wrinkled your nose in disgust at yourself. This relationship had been a bad idea. How could Sam ever love you once he saw what you had done to yourself?

Running your hands over your upper thighs, you flinched at the feeling of lumpy scar tissue beneath your fingers. There were more scars than skin, red and white ridged marks, evidence of your struggles with depression before you had met the boys. You had regretted them ever since, but never more than you did now. Whatever happened, Sam would hate you. Either you would keep refusing to be any more intimate with him and he would get fed up with you, or he would take one look at the scars covering your legs and decide that it wasn’t worth being with someone as messed up as you.

“Y/N, I’m back!” came Sam’s voice. You sighed heavily, quickly getting dressed and putting on a fake smile before stepping out to greet your boyfriend.

Pretty soon that fake smile became genuine in Sam’s presence, and you were soon laughing and sharing kisses like any other day. Dean disappeared on a supply run to stock up on beer and pie, leaving the two of you alone with the warning ‘don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and use protection.’ You had simply stuck your tongue out at him childishly.

But now Sam and your kisses were getting heated, and his hands were wandering up your thighs until you were straddling his lap. You ground down against him, feeling his length harden in the confines of his jeans, and he groaned. “God, Y/N… you wanna take this to the bedroom?”

You froze suddenly, no longer aroused in the slightest. “I don’t know… let’s just stay like this. This feels good, right?”

Sam kissed your neck with a faint growl. “Yeah, it feels good. But I need more.”

You shook your head. “No, Sam, I can’t… I’m sorry…”

Sam sighed, breaking away and looking you in the eye. “You’ve got to talk about this sometime, you know.”

Your stomach clenched. “Talk about what?”

“About why you’re so scared,” he replied. “It’s ok, Y/N, whatever it is. You can tell me.”

You shook your head. “Sam, let’s just stop,” you said suddenly, climbing off his lap.

“You know, if you don’t want to do this with me, you just have to say,” he told you. “If you don’t like me as anything more than a friend, or you don’t want a relationship…”

“No, I do!” you cried quickly, suddenly terrified that he would leave you. You had known this would happen. He hadn’t even seen the scars and already your relationship might be over.

“Alright,” Sam replied, and you breathed out a sigh of relief. “Just tell me, Y/N, please. I don’t mind, whatever you want to do, but I have to know what’s wrong.”

You took a deep breath. “Ok,” you agreed. “Ok, I’ll tell you… but please don’t be angry, ok?”

“I couldn’t be angry with you,” Sam insisted.

“Alright…” you closed your eyes. “I’m scared of you seeing me for who I really am. I’m scared you’ll take one look at my body and decide to leave me.”

Opening your eyes again, you took in Sam’s surprised expression. “But Y/N, you’re beautiful,” he insisted.

You laughed dryly. “You won’t say that when you see me properly.”

“Of course I will. Y/N, you’re perfect. Is it your weight, or the way you look? Scars from hunts?”

You flinched at the word ‘scars’. “Not exactly. It might be easier if I just… show you.”

Sam nodded, kissing your forehead gently. “Whatever it is, Y/N, it won’t change anything.”

You stood up, making your way to the bedroom reluctantly. Sam closed the door behind you, and you sat down on the bed, hesitating.

Well, screw it. It was too late to back out now. Without giving yourself a chance to change your mind, you quickly unbuttoned your jeans and yanked them down to your ankles, kicking them off. “There. Are you happy now?”

Sam raised his eyebrows, sitting down beside you. “How did you get those scars, Y/N?” he asked, a shocked expression on his face.

“Are you really going to make me say it?” you asked. “They’re not from hunts. They’re from before I met you. I was pretty depressed, and I guess it’s obvious how I got them.”

Sam ran his finger softly over the raised scars, the same way you had done a hundred times before, but this time you flinched at the touch. “I’m sorry, Sam,” you whispered.

“Hey, it’s ok,” he told you, kissing the top of your head. “It’s not your fault.”

You shook your head. “It is,” you argued. “I mean it’s no one else’s fault but mine. Nobody made me cut myself. I did that.”

“It was just your way of coping,” Sam replied, his fingers still wandering across your scarred thigh. “We’ve all got our different ways. Yours just wasn’t the healthiest, but I get that you felt like you had to do it. I mean, back when I was seeing Lucifer all the time, I had that cut on my hand, remember? I’d just keep pressing on that and opening it up again because that was the only thing that kept me sane. It wasn’t the best way of dealing with it, but it was all I had.”

Brushing your hair out of your face, Sam’s eyes met yours. “I’m not angry, Y/N. This doesn’t change anything. Those scars are a part of you now, and there’s nothing we can do, so we might as well just accept them. You’re still just as beautiful. Just promise me that if you ever feel bad, especially about yourself, then you’ll talk to me, alright?”

You nodded, a small smile forming. Sam had been more understanding than you could ever have hoped for.

He kissed you softly on the lips, his hand continuing up your thigh to your underwear, and you sighed happily.

“That was the only thing you were worried about, right?” Sam murmured against your mouth. “You still wanna do this?”

“Of course,” you replied, and Sam grinned. He grabbed your shoulders, gently pushing you down onto the bed. “This is gonna be all about you,” Sam told you, “because you have nothing to be self conscious about.”

You lay back as Sam pulled off your top before yanking off his own shirt. You ran your hands over his muscular chest, rubbing your thumbs over his nipples gently, and he gasped. “Hey, I thought I said this was about you,” he protested.

“If my boyfriend’s happy, I’m happy,” you told him. Sam kissed you again softly before reaching behind you, unclasping your bra and tossing it aside. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N.”  
You giggled. “Stop being so cheesy.”

“I’m gonna keep saying it until you agree that it’s true.” Sam’s erection was clearly visible now against his jeans, but he kept paying attention to you, his hands brushing gently over your stomach before stopping at your hips. He took hold of your underwear, pulling it down slowly, and you couldn’t help feeling self conscious. But Sam didn’t give you a chance to worry. Already he was leaving tiny kisses up your thighs, his lips brushing over the scars before he reached your centre, already wet from his teasing touches and kisses.  
You whimpered as he licked slowly across your folds, his warm tongue exploring you. The tip of his nose brushed against your clit, and you reached down to grip his hair. “Oh god, Sam…”

He chuckled, the tip of his tongue playing with your clit as his fingers suddenly began to push slowly inside you. You resisted the urge to clench your legs around his head, tightening your grip on his hair instead. Sam placed one hand on your hip, pinning you to the bed, his other hand working you open. You cried out as his fingers found your g-spot, and he pressed down there again, still teasing your clit with his tongue. It took barely any time at all for you to come, moaning your boyfriend’s name.

Sam released your hips as you began to relax, lying beside you and kissing you softly. “Sam, aren’t you going to…”

“In a minute,” he told you. “If you’re ok with it. But for now, I want you to say it.”

“Say what?”

“That you’re beautiful,” Sam explained, as if it were obvious.

You groaned. “But I’m not!”

Sam shook his head. “Not the right answer. Come on! Or I won’t kiss you until you say it.”

You rolled your eyes, moving to kiss him anyway, but Sam pulled backwards, and you whined. “Aw, come on!”

“Say it.”

You sighed heavily. “Alright, fine. Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I’m beautiful,” you said at last. “Happy now? I’m beautiful. And so are you.”

Sam grinned. “Thank you, Y/N. Now we just need to get you to keep saying it until you believe it. But until then, let’s carry on with what we were doing, shall we?” He ran his hands down your hips, and you giggled, suddenly overcome with happiness. What had you done to deserve a boyfriend like Sam?


End file.
